Archive of Our Own

And now we're at 180

And I can finally see

But then it's over in a second, crashed the car into the tree

Yeah, I can see it all happen

You'd rather die than take your eyes off me

The world was on fire. 

The world was erupting into white-hot, blazing flames, and all Mike could do was stand there and watch.

It’s not like that was anything new for him, though. At least, not as of lately. God, he can still remember the days when he was the one leading them all into battle. He used to be the guy who charged in head-first; he used to be the first guy who cared and the last guy who gave up. When he was younger, everything was so much easier. 

But now, he was watching Steve fucking Harrington rally the troops and hold their group together. He was watching his not-so-lame older sister brandish a gun and defend all her friends. He was watching Dustin and Lucas (and Erica?) come up with a foolproof, brilliant plan that they all would have been lost without.

He was watching El and Will, holding hands and wielding more power than any of them could even imagine.

And Mike was just standing there. Everyone else had a role but him. When he was younger, he used to act without thinking of the consequences. But now, every step he took was calculated. He didn’t speak without carefully thinking about what he was going to say first. He had made too many mistakes and hurt too many people to be reckless. 

He watched the flames burn around them. He breathed through his shirt, but the smoke still filled up his lungs, forcing him to cough, and suffocating him until he felt lightheaded. The other members of the group were fighting off demons like the badasses that they were, but Mike stayed hidden, transfixed by the scene in front of him.

What would he have done, anyways? He couldn’t shoot a gun to save his life, and he definitely didn’t have any secret magic powers that would come in handy. No, the only thing Mike Wheeler was good for was moral support. And in that moment, he didn’t even think he could offer that. 

The fire raged on. He watched the only girl he had ever loved scream and cry in agony. He watched her summon every last bit of energy she had to defeat this thing that had sent their world up in flames. Mike watched her, absolutely fascinated by her sheer willpower. She was the strongest one of them all, by a long shot. She was the one who kept coming back to save the day.

As he watched the blood stream down her face and mix in with her tears, Mike thought about how it still wasn’t enough. He loved her. He knew it, deep down. Or at least, he thought he did. But the new version of him - the version who thought something over a thousand times before actually doing it - was too scared to say it out loud. He was scared of what it would mean, of how it would tie him to her. 

And when he finally told her, it still wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough to keep her going, she said. She didn’t believe him. He stood there, like a fool, and recited the words over and over again until they didn’t even sound like English anymore. He told her he loved her so many times that he thought his voice was going to go hoarse. He said it once for every time that he had been scared to say it before, and yet, it still wasn’t enough. 

Nothing would ever be enough. Not for the people Mike hurt.

He wanted so badly to run over to her and to hold her and tell her that she was going to be okay. But in the moments that had led up to the world burning, he realized that she didn’t need him. She never did. He hovered around her because he needed someone to protect, but it soon became clear to him that she never needed protecting.

Will was wrong, in the end. El didn’t need him. 

But Will did.

Mike watched his best friend scream until his voice was scratchy. He saw the way that the boy’s hands were shaking violently, and the white haze over his normally green eyes terrified Mike. He knew that both of them were fighting a war inside their heads. Their hands were linked together, both of them hovering in the air. They were saving the world, and Mike was just hiding, like a coward.

The longer they stayed suspended in midair, the more panicked Mike became. He couldn’t lose both of them in one go. They were the strongest, the most powerful. They always had been. But they were also Mike’s entire world. He had built his entire stupid little life around the girl with the magical powers and the boy from the swingset. He felt the smoke rise in his lungs and in his chest as he watched both of their bodies shake with tremors.

They were Mike’s entire world, and now it was on fire.

He suddenly felt warmth at his side. Nancy, still holding her shotgun and covered in soot.

“You okay?” she asked.

Mike couldn’t answer. His lungs were full of smoke, and he couldn’t answer. He wasn’t okay, he wanted to say. He suffered through an entire war without ever lifting a finger. He was practically useless in the eyes of all the people he cared about, and now there was nothing left for him to do. 

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Nancy turn and look at the pair of bodies floating in the air. Suddenly, there were fingers slipping into the palm of Mike’s hand, and before he knew it, he was collapsing onto his sister, clinging to her for dear life. She was warm - too warm - and she smelled like ash and gunfire. Next to her, Jonathan appeared, looking stricken. He, too, was filthy from the fire, and he looked like he had seen death (he probably had).

“They’re going to be okay,” Mike heard him say. “Will’s strong. He can do this. And El…El knows what to do. She’s helping him in there.”

Jonathan knew both of them better than anybody. They were his siblings, and it was selfish of Mike to think that he was the most important person to them. Clearly Jonathan, and Joyce, had to be hurting more than he was right now.

But that didn’t feel possible. Jonathan and Joyce had each other. Jonathan had Nancy, and Joyce had Hopper. Who did Mike have? Mike had Will, and Mike had El. And that was it. His world didn’t exist beyond that. 

He couldn’t breathe. He clung to his sister and tried to take breath after breath as he watched the two of them lift even higher into the air.

God, he was so stupid. He wasted all his energy in telling El that he loved her, and in the end, it hadn’t even mattered. Why couldn’t he have spared just one of those for Will? What if this was the end for him, and Mike never even told him how much the other boy meant to him? 

Mike was careful; too careful. Especially in these last few weeks. Ever since he got to California, he felt like he had been walking on eggshells. If he had been careful before, then in Lenora, he was downright paranoid. And as he watched Will Byers go higher and higher into the air, engulfed in flames, all Mike could think about was how much he regretted.

Michael Wheeler was stupid, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew why every move he made around Will was so calculated. He knew the exact reason why he was always thinking before he spoke to Will, and not to anyone else. He knew the reason, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. Because his poor best friend had been suffering for his entire life, and Mike didn’t want to make it worse.

They floated higher and higher. Mike felt like he was watching something from a horror movie. They were both convulsing, like they were having seizures. Their eyes were glazed over, and blood was flowing down their cheeks like tears. Mike felt like he was going to throw up.

And he couldn’t breathe . The world was on fire, and it was sucking every breath right from Mike’s lips.

His sister was saying his name, repeating it in his ear. He still couldn’t answer. He could only watch, his eyes glued to the scene in front of him. Vaguely, he became aware of the people around him. More and more of them appeared by his side. Steve, Robin, Lucas, Dustin, Erica. Everybody. They all stared ahead, transfixed on their heroes in front of them, demons forgotten behind them. 

And then, as they were all watching and as Mike’s lungs filled with smoke, a thunderous crack of lightning struck the ground in front of them. It was a deafening sound and a blinding flash of light, and for a moment, Mike couldn’t hear or see anything. He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t see, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. He was dead, he was sure of it. The world had finally exploded, and he had perished along with it. But if he was dead, why did everything still hurt so bad?

Then, slowly, the world came back into focus, and Mike realized he wasn’t dead. His sister was no longer by his side. All of his friends were scattered around him, laying on the ground. Most of them had been knocked unconscious by the lightning. A couple were groaning and covering their heads with their hands.

In front of him, a wall of fire had risen where the lightning had struck. It burned, white-hot and searing the tips of Mike’s long, disgusting hair. The fire was all around him now, burning and crackling and absolutely consuming him.

He was on the ground, he realized. He had been knocked to the ground by the force of the storm around him. Careful as ever, he pulled himself upright. His head swayed. His vision was blurry. His breathing was ragged, and he fought for every single draw of oxygen that he forced into his soot-filled lungs. He felt like he was going to pass out.

The wall of fire was blazing in front of him. But on the other side, he began to make out what was happening. Will and El weren’t in the air anymore. They were on the ground. One of them was kneeling over the lifeless body of the other. Mike couldn’t tell who was who, but suddenly, all other coherent thoughts escaped his mind. He needed to know. He needed to get to them, immediately. 

He looked around him, feeling frantic. The fire was everywhere, and the heat waves were distorting his vision. There was still a ringing in his ears, and everything was still so blurry. 

There. An opening. The smallest gap in the flames. Mike took a shaky step, and once he discovered he still had the use of his stupid, gangly legs, he broke into a run.

He could hear someone screaming his name. Jonathan, probably. He didn’t turn around. He ran straight for the fire, because if it was going to kill him, he didn’t care anymore. He was either going to get to El and Will, or he was going to die trying.

He stumbled over branches and nearly fell on his face. His legs were shaky beneath him, and he wasn’t running in a straight line. The figures on the other side of the fire were becoming clearer, and with every step, he felt like his lungs became more constricted.

He reached the wall of fire, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t stop to think. He ran through, praying that he had calculated the height of the flames correctly. He screwed his eyes shut and thought, please not Will please not Will please not Will .

When he opened his eyes again, he had successfully made it to the other side and could clearly see the two people in front of him.

“ WILL! ”

He heard his own voice, barely, but he didn’t feel his vocal cords vibrate. He knew it was him screaming, but he couldn’t remember opening his mouth. He was having an out-of-body experience, watching his best friend lay motionless at his feet. He collapsed to his knees in front of the boy, and he felt El’s thin fingers grip his forearm.

“Mike,” she sobbed. “He won’t wake up. Why won’t he wake up?”

No. No no no no no. Will wasn’t dead , he couldn’t be. Mike wanted to ask what happened. He wanted to grab El by the shoulders and scream why couldn’t you save him , but he didn’t. He stared into the face of the boy who had just sacrificed himself for all of them. 

Mike loved Will. Maybe not in the same way that Will loved Mike, but Mike loved him. He cared for him more than anyone in the world, and he had let his stupid overthinking brain get in the way of telling him that. And now he was gone. He would never get to hear Mike say that he loved him. It was all so unfair, so cruel.

Mike loved him in the way that all best friends should love each other. He loved Will in a protective way and a brotherly way. He was always the first person to look out for Will, and he always made sure he was at the boy’s side for all the difficult stuff. But he never fucking said it. He was too scared of the implications, scared of the way his words would get twisted by anyone else who heard.

He never said it, and now it was too late.

“Will,” he heard El sobbing. “Will, wake up. It’s over. It’s okay. You can wake up now.”

They were both crying. On top of everything else, Mike felt sobs wracking his body, and now he really couldn’t breathe. 

Will’s face was still caked in blood. His hair was ruffled; his chest was still. His face looked oddly peaceful, and something about all of it was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way.

Mike wanted to throw himself over Will’s body and cry. He wanted to hold his best friend and scream at him to come back, but he didn’t, because he knew how that would look. 

It felt like hours that they sat there, clutching each other and crying over Will. Mike was still struggling to breathe. He was struggling to hear and to see and to think and to breathe. His entire world was still on fire, because Will was his entire world, and now he was gone - 

And then, a shuddering breath. A strangled gasp for air; a body suddenly flinging itself upright. A terrified boy saying, “ Mike .” A pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around Mike’s waist and sobbing into his chest.

Will was awake.

Holy shit, Will was awake. And Mike could breathe. He felt the smoke leave his lungs, and he felt Will hold onto him for dear life.

He found his voice again. “Will, oh my god, you’re alive, thank god.”

“I’m alive,” Will repeated. “I’m okay. I think.”

It was him, it was his voice. The same voice that had mysteriously dropped an octave in between August and March and startled Mike half to death the first time he heard it. It was scratchy and shaky, but it was his voice. He was real, and he was breathing again. They both were.

Slowly, Will let go of Mike. I love you , Mike thought. Say it. Say it say it say it, he told himself. Just like with El, he couldn’t. 

But he had to. Will was right in front of him, very much not dead, and Mike swore to himself that if he had the chance, he would say it. All he had to do was open his mouth and say it.

Mike was opening his mouth. But instead of forming words, he just leaned forward. And kissed Will.

The impulsive version of himself overcame him, and for the first time since they were kids, Mike did something without thinking. He loved Will; he wanted to tell Will how much he loved him. He needed to tell him. But he was still struggling to get air through his lungs. He could barely speak, so he did something else instead. He abandoned all thought, and he put his lips on Will’s in desperation. 

Will was startled, Mike could tell. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. It was a fast kiss, because as soon as Mike did it, he realized what a stupid, idiotic, impulsive decision that was. He pulled away just as quickly as he had leaned in. What the fuck was he thinking?

They stared at each other. Will’s gentle hazel eyes bore a hole into Mike’s soul. Poor Will Byers, who had been to hell and back more times than anyone could ever count, and who had never been kissed. Until now. 

Will’s fingers were still clutching onto Mike like he was his lifeline. Mike was full-blown panicking. He couldn’t breathe again. He felt something thick rising in the back of his throat, overwhelmed and exhausted and embarrassed. He couldn’t read the look in his best friend’s eyes. God, he could barely even focus on anything. His vision was going in and out; everything was so hazy.

Will kissed him again. He kissed Mike with aggression. Mike could taste the inexperience on his lips, and he could feel the need with which Will kissed him. Will was grasping onto him like he was suffocating and Mike was the only source of oxygen left.

But Mike needed oxygen. Real oxygen, from the air. He was actually suffocating, and Will’s mouth on his was only making it worse.

He had to pull away. As soon as he did, he saw the look in El’s eyes, and it shattered his heart. This isn’t what it looks like, he wanted to say to her. I love you.

But he knew she didn’t want to hear it.

He turned back to Will, who was crying. Silent tears were rolling down his messy cheeks, creating tracks in all the blood and the dirt. He opened his mouth to say something to Mike, but no words came out.

Mike could still barely focus on anything. But he saw the desperate, longing look that Will was giving him. The same look that Will was always giving him when he thought Mike wasn’t looking. The look that Mike constantly pretended he didn’t understand.

“I know,” whispered Mike.

And then he passed out.

Never felt this way with no one

And I lie when I tell you

I know exactly where we're going

I get lost just for this moment

Sometimes, Will still felt like he was just a ghost. An empty shell of the person he used to be.

Hawkins was saved, but at what cost? Max was gone, someone named Eddie was gone, and Will felt like he was never going to recover. Every day he woke up and he felt like someone had punched him straight in the gut. He could still hear El’s guttural screams; he could still feel Vecna’s hand around his throat.

That was never going to go away.

Most days, he didn’t want to see the others. He kept to himself, locked up in what was left of the cabin. He stayed in the back room while everyone else came in and out. He heard voices all the time - Steve and Robin never seemed to want to leave Nancy alone, and since Nancy was always over with Jonathan, the four of them were constantly together. His other friends came and went. Most of them were too scared to sleep alone.

Mike and El were the only ones he let in. The three of them spent most of their nights huddled together on the bed, not knowing what to do with themselves. Mike refused to say anything. El spoke quietly, but only to Will. She was the only one who understood what he had been through, the only one who stood by his side when it all happened. She whispered reassuring words to him whenever he felt like his world was crashing in.

Because Will had died. He had stopped breathing entirely, and then, by sheer willpower, he forced himself to come back. He couldn’t explain it to anyone, not even himself. He just knew that it had changed him.

El usually left to sleep in her room. Sometimes she stayed with them until late in the night, but sometimes she left before the sun even went down. It depended on the day.

Will wasn’t stupid by any means. He saw the way Mike was always staring at her. He saw the way his face fell whenever she left the room. He knew that he still had feelings for her. How could he not? He had loved her since they were little, and she was a beautiful force of nature. 

But she always left, and when the night fell, it was just Mike and Will. Like it always used to be. Like all those nights after Will came back from the Upside Down, when the darkness was just too much for him and he had to radio Mike to come over. When the two of them laid quietly in their bed, shoulder-to-shoulder, not saying anything. Just being there for each other.

It was exactly like that.

Only now, Will had a name for the way he felt towards Mike. He used to chalk it up to the comfort that his best friend had always provided him with, but now he knew better. He was in love. He was so fucking in love he could hardly stand it. 

He always thought that when Mike finally figured out his awful, terrible secret, he would run away screaming. Will always planned to lose Mike the second that he realized how Will felt. He felt like they were a ticking time bomb, and as soon as it hit zero, they were going to blow up.

But then that didn’t happen.

The entire world went up into flames, and they survived. Their friendship survived. Their confusing, mind-boggling relationship survived.

Whenever they were alone, Will kissed Mike as much as he could. He memorized the feeling of the other boy’s lips; he savored the taste of his best friend. This was everything he had been dreaming about for as long as he could remember. He was shaken, and broken, but Mike made him feel whole again. 

And the more he kissed him, the more he was able to erase the memory of Mike’s eyes on El. The more he bought into his delusion, the more he was able to pretend like everything was normal. Like Mike really was the knight in shining armor that he always imagined him to be. Like he wasn’t completely worthless, and all his time spent pining after his straight best friend was finally going to be worth it. 

Mike kissed him back, of course. He never initiated it, but he kissed him back. He held Will at night as they fell asleep. 

And he didn’t speak.

He hadn’t said much at all to anybody, not since the world ended. He communicated entirely in gazes from his deep, dark eyes. His body language said more than his words ever did. Most of the time, he kept his long arms wrapped around his knees. In the rare moments that he let go of himself, he wrapped them around Will, instead. It was comforting to Mike, Will thought. And it was comforting to Will, too, so he didn’t try to stop it. 

They continued like that for a while. Will stopped keeping track of the days. He never went back to California, and none of them went back to school, either. There was no school to go back to. 

The whole town abandoned their lives to try and piece Hawkins back together. Most of their friends helped. Dustin spearheaded the memorials, while Steve spent all his time at the Rec Center, where the homeless were living. Even El finally left the house to help her dad make runs around town, delivering supplies.

It took Will an entire month before he was able to leave the cabin. It took Mike another two weeks before he wanted to come with him.

They started going on walks around the woods. They never said much; they just walked side-by-side through the forest, letting the birds and the crunchy leaves do all the talking for them. Will felt at peace, but at the same time, he constantly felt on edge.

A lot of the time, he felt like he could still see the dark red flames flickering around them. Every time he closed his eyes, blood red flashed over the back of his eyelids. He had nightmares every night, and he never went more than three hours without waking up in a cold sweat. The only thing keeping him sane was knowing that Mike had his long, sturdy arms wrapped around him.

Even just feeling Mike’s presence next to him as they walked through the woods made him feel better.

Their friends didn’t mention it. They noticed how Will never left Mike’s side, but they never said anything about it. Only El had seen them kiss. And Will knew she was confused.

Will was pretty sure Mike was confused, too. He constantly seemed like he was in some kind of a daze, like he was only half awake. He held Will close and he buried his face in Will’s hair, but he wasn’t entirely there. Will could relate. He felt like both of them lost pieces of themselves on that day.

They hit the two month mark before Will finally heard Mike laugh again. They had taken one of their walks in the woods, and they found themselves at the edge of Lover’s Lake. For a while, they had been sitting on the shore, staring off into the water. It was all so remarkably calm. Will still felt used to seeing Hawkins in turmoil, and the serenity of the lake was unsettling.

Eventually, Will felt restless, so he stood up. He walked over to the edge of the water, leaning over and picking up a rock. He tried his best to skip it, but it sunk into the water right away.

For some insane, unworldly reason, that made Mike laugh. It was a brash sound that caught Will completely off guard. He turned around, not entirely convinced that it had actually happened. But sure enough, Mike had crinkles around the corners of his eyes, and there was a smile on his face. A real smile. 

Will had forgotten what Mike’s laugh sounded like. It was light, and joyful, and music to his ears. It made him smile, too, which made Mike’s smile grow even wider. They had both forgotten what it was like to smile. What it was like to be happy. It felt so foreign that Will could almost cry.

“You do it, then, if you think it’s so funny,” Will said.

“Okay, fine.” Mike stood up and bent over, no doubt looking for the best skipping rock. Will watched him, feeling content.

“Aha!” He straightened up and held out a small, smooth stone. “This is the perfect one.”

Mike leaned back, getting ready to toss the rock, and Will stood off to the side, soaking in every last detail. Even though Mike had finally stopped growing (thank god), his hair hadn’t. In the past couple of months, he still refused to cut it, so it was now falling down his back in chunks. The wind picked it up a little bit, blowing it away from his face to reveal his razor-sharp cheekbones. He had lost a few pounds (from where, Will wasn’t sure) due to stress, but he still looked as beautiful as ever. In fact, Will thought he looked better now than he ever had. He had a quiet maturity about him that hadn’t been there before.

Mike flicked his wrist and let go of the stone in one fluid motion. Both of them watched eagerly, only to see it sink just as heavily as Will’s had.

And that really made them laugh. Will’s laugh intertwined with Mike’s in the warm May air, both of them leaning their heads back and grabbing each other’s arms.

“We’re pathetic ,” said Will in between giggles.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. They both caught their breath again, and suddenly, they were looking at each other in a way that they hadn’t been before. Mike had never held his gaze for this long in broad daylight before. It was making Will’s knees go weak.

“Hey, Will?”

“Yeah?”

Mike swallowed. “I love you,” he said. 

Will was too stunned to speak. That couldn’t be true. Mike Wheeler didn’t love him. At least, not in the way that he wanted him to.

“Will?” said Mike hesitantly. “I said, I - ”

“I heard you,” said Will cautiously. “What about El?”

“What - what about her?”

“Don’t you love her, too?”

And god, the look on Mike’s face absolutely shattered Will’s heart. His smile faded faster than Will could even blink. One mention of El’s name, and Mike suddenly looked like a goner.

El didn’t love him back. Will knew that, because El told him so, repeatedly. She didn’t like the way Mike was forcing her to rely on him. She didn’t like the way Mike suddenly threw himself at her. She didn’t love him anymore; she said so. 

But Mike still loved her. He could stand there and say he loved Will as much as he wanted, but he still loved her. Will was sure of it. He knew the look in Mike’s eyes well; it was the same look he saw on himself whenever he thought about his best friend. 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” mumbled Mike. “But I do love you. And I should have told you a while ago. I just - I didn’t know how.”

“It’s okay,” Will said quietly. He didn’t say it back, because saying it back would make him sound like even more of a fool than he already was. Mike already knew. He didn’t have to say it.

Mike stepped forward gently and cupped Will’s face. “Do you remember all those things you said to me in the van?” he asked.

Will nodded. He knew where this was going.

“They were about you, weren’t they? Not El?”

“What do you think?”

Mike took another step forward and put his lips on Will’s ever so softly. Will didn’t move. He didn’t dare to touch Mike. He just kissed him back, terrified every time that it would be their last.

“I love you, Will.”

No you don’t.

Don't wanna scrape you off the pavement

I can't be your savior

I don't wanna be here when you lose control

Don't wanna watch it as it happens

Mike was learning how to breathe again.

They hit three months after the world burned, and by now, he was starting to feel like himself. For the first time in ages, he felt remnants of his past self seep back into his body.

The four of them - Dustin, Lucas, Will, and himself - started hanging out again. It was summer, so they took trips down to the lake or hung out in Mike’s basement like old times. (Mike had finally been able to start staying at his house again instead of Will’s cabin. But he still made Will come over with him so they could hold each other at night. It was the only way he could sleep.)

Mike always sat close to Will. They never left each other’s sides. They had started talking more, now. Ever since that day at the lake, Mike found himself wanting to talk to Will. They didn’t dare to talk about the day that Will died, but they talked about other things, like how Will missed his California house sometimes or how Mike wished the movie theater hadn’t burned down. 

Even when they hung out with other people, they stayed pressed against each other. Still, no one said anything. Everyone’s eyes lingered (Joyce’s and Jonathan’s especially), but no one bit the bullet. 

Mike couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t possibly explain to all his friends and family that Will was the only thing keeping him breathing. Will was the only lifeline he had, and he was pretty sure that if they separated, he was going to suffocate again.

It was like this: Mike needed someone to need him. He needed something, anything, to hold onto that proved he was still a valuable part of someone’s life. Ever since that day in the fiery woods, when he stood there helplessly, he had the gnawing suspicion that he was as good as worthless to everybody. He needed something real to grasp ahold of.

Will was that for him.

Will needed Mike, for all the reasons Mike knew were wrong. And so, consequently, Mike needed Will.

He was being selfish. He knew that. He knew that he was putting Will’s feelings for him on the line just so that he could feel wanted again. He knew that he was using Will to replace the El-sized hole in his heart. He felt awful for it, but he couldn’t stop. Because if he stopped, he wasn’t going to be able to breathe again.

Will kept kissing Mike, when it was late at night and no one was around. Mike felt like he stepped out of his body every time it happened, like he was going through the motions just so he could feel something.

Will was a good kisser, though. He kissed rough, unlike El, who was always so gentle with him. Every time, Will kissed Mike like the first time he had done it, when he had just come back from the dead and the entire world was falling apart. He always kissed Mike like the world was still up in flames.

And Mike would be lying if he said he didn’t feel anything from it. They were making out, how was anyone not supposed to feel something from that? But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t what he was so desperately looking for. It was something, but it was never enough.

It would have to do.

Three months passed, and then four, and by the time August rolled around, Mike was in deep trouble.

He felt like he was playing a part in a play or a movie. He could hear the things that came out of his mouth, but he could never remember saying them. Every day, he told Will he loved him (but Will never said it back). They held each other and whispered things to each other and wiped away each other’s tears. They had put each other back together again, and with school starting in just a week, Mike needed to do something.

Because he did love Will. He did, really. Just not in the way that Will deserved to be loved. 

Their kisses weren’t enough for him anymore. He tried to pull away more often. He started becoming distant in the hopes that he wouldn’t completely break Will’s heart. 

He should have never gotten himself into this mess to begin with. He should have never played along. He should have found some other way to cope instead of relying entirely on one person. One poor person who thought the world of him.

Really, when El told him his love wasn’t enough, he went running to the one person who he knew he could be enough for. And that wasn’t fair to Mike, or to Will, or to El. It needed to end.

“Will,” he whispered one night. They were in Mike’s room, and there was rain lightly pattering on the window. 

Will’s breathing was heavy. He was rolled on his side, facing away from Mike, who had one arm placed gently over his waist. Was he asleep already? He usually wasn’t able to fall asleep that quickly. Maybe it was the rain.

Mike shouldn’t wake him. He was sleeping peacefully, which was rare for him. He deserved this little bit of safety.

He also deserved the truth.

“Will.” Mike said his name again, a little louder this time.

Will stirred, groaning and batting at Mike’s hand with his own sleepily. “Whaaa?” he asked, his voice lower than usual (it made Mike’s stomach swoop).

“Look at me.”

Will let out another groan and stretched his arms up before rolling over to face Mike in the small bed. “What?” he asked again, this time a little more awake.

What the fuck was Mike supposed to say now? He hadn’t planned this out at all. “I…I need to tell you something,” he said quietly.

Will didn’t say anything. He just stared at Mike in the darkness. Pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter from the window.

“I think I’ve made a horrible mistake,” Mike whispered. 

“What kind of mistake?”

Mike couldn’t say it. He couldn’t lay there and rip his best friend’s heart in two. He just couldn’t . It would tear them apart, and then his lifeline would be gone. What would he have to hold onto without Will? 

“Mike?”

“Us.”

Mike could see the hope fall from Will’s eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see every single thread of hope tying the two of them together get cut. He could hear the disappointment in the air. He watched as his words drove through Will’s heart like knives.

“You think… we’re a mistake?”

“Will - Will, don’t - ”

Will was climbing out of the bed as quickly as he could, as if Mike’s skin had electrocuted him. “Is this about El?” he asked.

“No! I mean, maybe? I don’t know, I just…”

“You just what, Mike?”

Will looked impossibly small, standing there in Mike’s bedroom. He was wearing one of Mike’s green school hoodies, and the arms were much too long on him. The sleeves covered his hands, which were wrapped tightly around his middle. His hair had grown out so that it was back to the same length it had been in the summer of ‘85, when they had defeated the Mind Flayer in the middle of a mall. Mike was suddenly taken back to that summer, when he had hurt Will deeply and sent him out into the pouring rain by himself. They couldn’t repeat that, they just couldn’t.

“I think I just need to figure this all out,” said Mike. “I don’t…I don’t know what I’m fucking doing .”

Mike couldn’t breathe. With every word that escaped his lips, he could feel his lungs constricting. It was like the world was on fire again, and ash was filling up his body instead of oxygen.

“You - you let me know when you figure it out,” Will choked out. Mike could hear the sobs laced between his words.

And then Will was running from the room, down the stairs, and Mike was suddenly launching himself out of the bed. No, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Mike needed Will; he needed him there, or else he wouldn’t survive. Will couldn’t just leave.

The rain outside was picking up. Mike could hear it much clearer now that he was downstairs and the front door was open. Wait - the front door was open. Will Byers was running out the front door, and Mike was letting him.

“Will!” shouted Mike, thundering down the stairs like a little kid on Christmas morning. “ Will! ”

The boy was already outside, standing on the Wheelers’ front porch. He was still wearing Mike’s enormous hoodie, which was slowly soaking with rain. His hair was plastering itself to his forehead. Mike was having flashbacks to his garage that summer, and every time he thought of Will’s words, full of hurt, he felt a pang of regret flash through him.

Mike stepped out onto the porch, too, barefooted. Water seeped into his pores. He grabbed Will’s wrist and stopped him from running away.

“Will, wait,” he said.

“Let go of me!”

“I love you,” Mike said. He felt like he was choking, and he could barely get the words out.

Will’s eyes were screwed tight, almost shut but not quite. He was probably crying. Mike couldn’t tell from all the rain. “Don’t say that to me,” he said. “Not if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. I promise.”

“No you don’t!”

“Will - ”

“You’re a fucking coward,” Will spat at him.

That sent Mike reeling. The curse word sounded so wrong and disgusting coming out of Will’s mouth. He never cursed, not even when the world was ending and his life had been so cruel. Not at the bullies who called him awful names, or at the monstrous villains who threatened his life.

No, apparently that word was reserved just for Mike.

Mike, who felt like he had been ripped into pieces. Mike, who watched Will run away into the night and through the pouring rain. Mike, who wanted to run after him, but who couldn’t bring himself to move. He was paralyzed by the rushing water and by a deep-rooted pain that was seeping into his heart and throughout his body.

He sat out on the porch until the sun rose. He was soaking wet. The cold water had gone straight to his bones, and his body ached from shivering all night. There were deep bags under his eyes, which were obscured by his wet hair shielding his face. He spent the entire night forcing himself to draw breath after breath. He felt like if he stopped consciously thinking about it, his lungs were going to give out on him.

Nancy was the one who finally found him. By that point, Mike wasn’t really there. He didn’t hear anything she said, and he barely felt her arms around him, slowly guiding him up and into the house. His mother immediately started fussing over him, and both women brought him warm towels and blankets.

They were speaking to him. They were peppering him with questions, trying to figure out what was wrong. He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t focus on anything except his ragged breathing. He felt like he was trapped in a never-ending panic attack, like he was never going to be okay again.

He was right. Losing Will was killing him.

Will didn’t speak to him for at least a week after that. Dustin kept asking Mike what he did to screw up so badly. Lucas said he was tired of playing both sides. El stuck by Will (which hurt even more).

Mike didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought eventually it would get better, that he would feel okay. He thought that Will would be grateful for being let off the hook and that he would see how this was the right decision.

But even after a week, Mike still felt like shit. He was starting to wonder if it had been the right decision.

He was supposed to be relieved, right? He was supposed to be thankful that he didn’t have to keep playing the part anymore. He wasn’t leading Will on; he could live his life normally.

So why did he feel like something awful was missing?

He spent a lot of time sitting on the front porch. A small part of him thought that if he sat outside long enough, he might see Will walk by. Which was stupid; Will didn’t live anywhere near him. (Lucas did, though, and he was clearly confused.)

Another part of him felt like he still hadn’t moved after that night. He felt like he was still locked into place after Will ran away from him in the rain. He felt as though his skin was still soaked, like Nancy had never found him shivering to death.

She joined him from time to time. Out of all people, Mike felt like she probably had the best idea of what was going on. She spent all her time with Jonathan, after all, and he was close with Will. She probably had a sneaking suspicion of what had happened, but to Mike’s immense relief, she never directly brought it up.

One time, though, just a week after it had all happened, Mike found himself sitting next to her on the front stoop. He was leaning his head against one of the brick pillars that held their house up. Nancy was sitting several feet away from him, her arms crossed over her knees.

They didn’t usually talk much. Mike didn’t talk much to anyone. He hadn’t, not since the world burned. Will was the only person who got him to really start talking, and now that Will was gone, Mike went back to keeping his mouth shut.

Nancy talked, though. She talked a lot, to everyone. Talking seemed to be a way to get her through it. She often rambled about Jonathan or Robin or Steve, telling Mike all about their latest accomplishments or adventures. Mike only half-listened.

That particular day, she was in the middle of telling Mike about her and Jonathan’s latest trip to visit the school. “They're almost done renovating it,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re going to be going back there in just a couple - ”

“How did you know?” asked Mike. His voice was hoarse from little use. It was only after he interrupted his sister that he realized he wasn’t listening at all to what she was saying. 

Her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. “Know what?”

“About Jonathan. How did you know you loved him? Like, for real.”

Something in Nancy’s expression softened. “Mike…” she said, “...is this about El?”

“No.”

“Then is it about - ”

“Just tell me how you knew.” He talked over her; he didn’t want to hear the name that was about to spill from her lips. He didn’t want to hear anyone acknowledge what they all already knew. 

She was smiling. God, why was she smiling? Was this amusing to her? It was just one stupid question. What was there to possibly be happy about?

“Well,” she said, “I think it depends on the person and on the circumstance. With Jonathan…I don’t know, I just kind of realized one day, I think. I couldn’t picture my life without him, you know?”

Mike frowned. “Yeah, but don’t you feel that way about other people? Like, how you felt about Barb, or how you feel about me?”

“Oh, I can definitely picture my life without my annoying little brother,” she teased.

If Mike had been in the bantering kind of mood, he would have laughed. Before the end of the world, he would have laughed. But Mike hadn’t been in the bantering kind of mood in ages. Not since before he left for California. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“It’s different, with your friends and your family,” she told him. “Those are people that you want in your life, sure. But with someone you… love, like that, you want them in your life all the time. For every little moment. To share all the good stuff and the bad stuff with.”

Mike didn’t say anything to that. The conversation was becoming more and more frustrating to him. He could feel the familiar panic rising in his lungs. This was why he didn’t talk to people anymore. 

“Mike,” she said softly. “If you’re feeling that way about…someone, it’s okay to tell them.”

Mike pretended like she wasn’t using gender-neutral pronouns. He pretended like this wasn’t all what it really was. 

“Can you love someone who’s a friend?” he asked. His scratchy voice barely rose above a whisper. “Can you love someone like that without having to be… together ? Isn’t that what having a best friend is for?”

“The person you love can also be your best friend,” Nancy said. “They should be your best friend, really.”

Mike felt like he was going to throw up.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. Mike listened to the sound of the birds calling from the woods behind their street. He watched their neighbor rev up the lawn mower. He tried to distract his wandering mind from zeroing in on the truth.

“Hey, Mike,” Nancy said.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at her. He felt like if they made eye contact, she was going to see it all plastered on his face.

“If you’re going to shut someone out…make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. You can - I mean, you can love whoever you love. We don’t always fall in love with the people we think we’re going to. Sometimes, we don’t get to choose who we love.”

Mike buried his face in his hands and tried to stop himself from crying. Was he really this stupid? Had he been lying to himself this whole fucking time ?

Was he really only forcing Will away because he was afraid of being gay ?

Will was the one who liked boys. He was the one who was made an outcast for it, even though he never actually told anyone. He was the one who got beat up and tormented, all because some people liked to guess at his sexuality. All because he had never been with a girl.

Mike didn’t like boys. He liked girls. He liked El. He loved her, even. And he loved Will, too, but just in a brotherly way. Right? He let Will kiss him because it made him feel wanted, and he knew it was making Will happy. That was all it was, right?

Right?

He needed to see Will. He needed to see Will right that instant, or else he was going to suffocate again.

He found himself dragging himself up and getting on his bike. He hadn’t ridden a bike in ages, not since before the world ended. He always found some other way of getting around, but now, it felt important to make the journey this way. Like there was no other way he could have done it.

The world had been on fire. Mike had watched their entire town go up in flames, and he had watched his best friend save them all. He lost Will, he got Will back, and he lost him again. All the while feeling like fire was still consuming him and infiltrating his lungs. The only time he could breathe properly was when he could feel Will beside him, how could he have been so stupid?

He was just too cautious, that was all. All this time, he was just overthinking it. He hadn’t connected the dots in his brain because it didn’t make any sense to him that way. Will was the one who was hopelessly in love with him. That’s how the narrative had always gone, whether Mike was aware of it or not. Will was in love with Mike, and Mike was in love with El.

And in all Mike’s stubbornness and carefulness, he had completely overlooked the fact that it was possible to change the narrative.

We don’t get to choose who we love .

Mike pedaled faster. He was panting hard; clearly, he was in no physical shape to be biking eight miles. He still couldn’t breathe, but he overlooked that. He would do whatever it took to make things right.

He was pedaling, pedaling, pedaling. He was swerving out of the way when a big pickup truck turned the corner and almost ran him over. He was yelling an apology to Mrs. Dunworthy, who was screaming at him for driving through her grass. He was breathing heavily and moving his feet as fast as they would possibly go. He could feel sweat dripping down his back under the hot August sun, and he could feel his thick hair curling around his face.

And then he was there. He was throwing his bike to the side and running up to the front door. He took his fist and pounded on it relentlessly. Let me in, let me in, please.

The door swung open. “Mike, what - ?”

Will Byers was there. He was there, and Mike could breathe again. He was still panting and sweating, but he could breathe again. And he knew: this - this was what love was. This was it. He was attached to William Byers, connected by a string that pulled both of their hearts together through all the good and all the bad. It had always been that way, Mike was just too stupid and too oblivious to fully understand.

“Will,” he said, leaning against the porch railing and trying to catch his breath. “You…I - I love you.”

Will rolled his eyes and went to shut the door again. “No, you don’t,” he said.

“No!” Mike rushed forwards and caught the door with his arm. He was suddenly in Will’s personal space, and when the other boy turned his head to look at him, their faces were just inches apart. Mike could hear the quick thud of Will’s heart, he could feel his panicked exhales.

“You don’t understand,” Mike said. “I love you.” He put as much of himself into that one word. He knew it was a word he had thrown around countless times before, to multiple people. He used to use it like it meant nothing, like it was just a way to get the other person to not run away.

But now, he was using it differently. He was using it for what it really meant.

Will stared up at him. His eyes darted to Mike’s lips, and then back up again. With Will this close, Mike was breathing deeper than he had in over a week, and his whole body was aching from how relieved he was. 

Mike rested his forehead against Will’s. Will closed his eyes, and Mike knew what he was thinking. Mike knew that Will was begging for this to be real, for it to last this time.

“I love you,” Mike whispered against Will’s lips, in a more intimate way than he ever had.

And then, thank god ,  the four words that Will had never said out loud, spoken in a hushed, deep, choked-up voice:

“I love you, too.”

And one day it'll kill us if I-